


Dressed for Success

by mistyzeo



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Fantasy, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo





	Dressed for Success

The office bathroom in the middle of the day is not Jensen’s ideal place or time for a quick jerk-off session, but Jared is actually going to be the death of him. The inconsiderate asshole comes to work dressed impeccably in his suits, but manages to look comfortably casual in them even when he’s wearing a vest. He’s polite to Jensen, who is his superior, but always with a slight undertone of teasing friendliness that Jensen can’t call him out on, nor can he pin it down when he’s fairly certain Jared’s messing with him. He’s big and broad and from the few times Jensen’s touched his arms by semi-accident he also knows Jared’s fucking built. Probably works out twice a day, before and after work.

Fortunately, the office bathroom is a single-use affair with a door that locks, so he can drop his slacks and slip a hand inside his briefs without worrying that anyone will come in and wonder what he’s up to. So long as he doesn’t take an hour. His cock is already half-hard, his nerves all keyed up by Jared giving him a tiny touch on the elbow when he passed over his coffee, and the smell of his aftershave lingering once he’d gone. Jensen thinks about his smile, broad and honest, and his lips, how good they’d feel to kiss, how hot they’d look against Jensen’s skin. He squeezes himself and thinks about putting a hand in Jared’s not-quite-unprofessionally long hair and tugging, the way he’d submit to Jensen’s whims, smirking at him all the while.

Jensen’s all the way hard by now, and he has to be quick. He flicks his tie over his shoulder and leans back against the bathroom door. Speed and accuracy are key— he must avoid suspicion at all costs, because no one will respect a man who takes too long in the bathroom, or has come stains on his shirt.

He cups his balls and rubs his thumb over the head of his dick while he thinks about Jared’s ass in his pants, the way they stretch tight when he bends over to help Caroline with her computer problems, always when Jensen’s at his desk. He wonders if it’s intentional as he rolls his hips into his grip, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. He pictures Jared with a pen in his mouth at a department meeting, chewing thoughtfully and occasionally meeting Jensen’s eyes and smiling. Fuck, it’s got to be intentional.

His hand is a blur, his heart racing and his chest heaving, rough pleasure mounting fast between his legs, and he’s arching his back and reaching for his orgasm when there’s a light tap on the door, an inch from his head. He gasps, almost a sob, and comes messily, to the sound of Jared’s voice asking, “Jensen?”

Jensen manages, “Just a minute,” and shakes his way through the unsatisfying tail-end of the orgasm, mortified. He slumps against the door and tries to catch his breath, his sticky cock softening in his hand. He staggers to the sink and washes his hands, does up his trousers, and straightens his tie. He’s still a little flushed, but splashing water on his face would be too obvious and weird.

He opens the door, and tries to look disconcerted to find Jared standing there. It isn’t hard. “Can I help you?”

“Uh,” Jared says, “nope. I’m good,” and walks away.

Jensen stares after him, and wonders if that was intentional too.


End file.
